Changes
by InkMind
Summary: Curt/Brian. "You're still the same jerk I dumped." "I suppose I haven't changed, either."
1. Wishful Beginnings

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Curt Wild or Brian Slade, they're fictional characters from "Velvet Goldmine", Todd Haynes brilliant movie.

**Warnings:** It involves strong language. Throughout the story, it will also involve sexual graphic scenes.

* * *

**Chapter One: Wishful Beginnings**

* * *

Brian Slade stepped out of the car and reached out for the air around him, trying to absorb the familiar drizzle. Coming back to London rekindled infinite memories, memories he had sworn to himself he'd never bring back into his mind.

But he was fairly sure the person in question didn't feel the same way. He wasn't nostalgic. Truth be told- he probably wouldn't even remember him. No, Curt definitely wouldn't get stuck in a passionate, sporadic romance, he would simply… Put it out of his mind.

The even thinking of it was ridiculous.

_Four years._ One thousand four hundred and sixty nights, exactly. One thousand four hundred and sixty faceless strangers…

Brian didn't begin a single night alone, and he never slept in company. As soon as the heated night was over, his worshipper would have to leave the bed. But it had been different with him- Curt didn't worship him. As a matter of fact, it was exactly the opposite.

But, it hadn't lasted. Brian's adoration never did. One day the colours were bright and fascinating, the next day they all seemed gray and leaded to a spiral of doom.

It wasn't his fault, was it? The fact that his interest for Curt had lasted more than had intended? The inevitable ending of Brian finally losing interest and his lover feeling like _nothing? _He wasn't that wrong, Curt _had_ been nothing to Brian at the end of it. But no, it wasn't his fault- Brian had warned him. He was…complicated.

"_That's fine. I mean, I'm a fucking mess- I can't judge you." _Had been his answer. Everything was much simpler to Curt, at least that's what he wanted to show.

And now that he had finally decided to end his career, Brian was back home- heading for the gate of his house. And he couldn't help but remember that gray car- the same that once had taken the only meaningful thing in his life away.

But how naïve of him to deny the guilt. He was fully responsible and he bloody well knew it. Letting Curt go had been a dreadful mistake, but the Glam Rock star had too much pride to admit it.

That's why when the door opened and he eyed the man of his present thoughts in flesh, he felt just like he used to feel those first months around Curt- breathless.

The blond man stared at Brian with a sheepish smile on his face, and a cigarette between his fingers.

He looked just like he did the last time he had seen him. His hair looked more golden, but that was it- he hadn't changed, not one bit. He was the same man who had stormed away that cold night. Those were the same eyes that burned with anger that morning.

But Brian still resented him, and he knew ignoring Curt would hurt him just as much as he had hurt him when he left.

So he closed the door, left the suitcase on the floor, took off his big black hat, hung his coat and made his way to the kitchen to make himself a hot cup of tea.

Brian didn't get to see Curt's reaction before the man walked in his direction. The British man kept his eyes on the cup, so he wouldn't get caught by those shimmering sapphires that clouded his sense of right and wrong.

Curt approached the breakfast table and leaned on his elbows, waiting for Brian to turn around. And when he did, his smile looked so relax he wasn't sure if he felt relief or intense rage.

"Still blue, huh?" Curt broke the silence, referring to Brian's dyed hair.

Brian smiled absently. "Weren't you living in New York? That's what I heard."

"Yeah, I am," was Curt's reply. And silence again. Only the sound of the steaming water pouring out of the kettle eased the tense atmosphere.

"Do you need money?" Brian asked in order to offend the man, staring down.

The smile on his face faded instantly. "You think I made it all the way here for cash?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. In fact, that's the only reasonable explanation I find for your…" He took a sip of tea. "…unexpected visit," Brian finished calmly, sticking the knife deeper.

Curt chuckled in disbelief, staring at Brian and shaking his head.

"I meant…is there anything you need?" The tone of Brian's voice remained polite. After all, he wasn't about to lose his temper, Curt wasn't worth it anymore, right?

_Right?_

Curt ran his hand through his hair. "Listen- I was in town and…thought I could stop by to see an old friend. That's all."

"And you couldn't wait for me at the door, could you?" Brian remarked.

Curt smiled seductively. "It's freezing and I had the key- you do the math."

"Right," Brian replied, not wanting to start a discussion and wondering why would he keep the key. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."

The British man turned around.

"So… How you doing?" Curt asked.

_Small talk? Alright._

"Well…I'm doing fine, thank you. What about you? Are you still performing?"

"Kind of… Once in a while I have a gig," he replied, putting out his cigarette.

"Good for you," Brian smiled, handing the cup to Curt and feeling a shudder as his hands brushed his. The man stared at him but Brian swallowed softly and moved away. "Are you staying here?"

"Here?" Curt replied, frowning. "Maybe..."

"I meant-" Brian rushed to clarify.

"I know. Yeah, just a few days."

"I assume you…"

Curt settled the cup on the table and Brian noticed those black-painted nails. It was a small detail, but he had always found it particularly attractive. Maybe because it reminded him of the first time he had seen those hands, sliding all over the man's glowing skin.

"I came to see you, okay?"

Brian's head snapped back into reality to look at the blond.

"Oh..." he replied, sipping his tea.

He couldn't deny Curt's presence was bringing back all sorts of feelings. After all the hate he had built up, after all the fights and how much he had demeaned him. After all those nights by his side, wanting him gone. Now- after so many years, he felt just like the first days. But he wasn't about to show it, hell no.

"Alright," Brian muttered, looking up to Curt's storm coloured eyes.

"Al_right?_" The man snapped.

"Well…What did you expect? I'd swoon, run into your arms?" he asked, placing a hand on his chest overdramatically. "It's been too long."

Brian was lying- there was nothing he wanted more than Curt's regret. But...it was too hard.

"You shouldn't have come," he finished, taking Curt's hand for a second, but he tightened the grip and extended his free hand to bring Brian's face near his. The British's lids dropped closed, he couldn't back off this time.

The smoke was tracing smooth figures around Curt's face, Brian could feel his breath, his eyes flickering up and down and getting caught on his lips- making his judgment tumble down.

"Bullshit," Curt murmured. And before Brian could pronounce another word, Curt had reached out for his shirt to pull him closer. His moves were abrupt and sudden, he bet Curt remembered exactly how to disarm his calm attitude. "Four fucking years and I can still tell when you're lying."

"I'm not," Brian snapped, softly pushing him away. Hating his mighty attitude.

"Whatever," said Curt, walking backwards- still staring at Brian. "I guess you don't mind me leaving, then."

"I'm already used to it." Brian shut his eyes, regretting the words the minute they left his mouth. Shit- he had shown he cared.

The silence seized the room.

"You could have stopped me." Brian heard Curt's voice approaching.

"No. You had made a decision, there's nothing I could have done to change your mind. It wasn't my place, anyway," The British man replied- demanding him to admit some responsibility.

"Yeah, that's just stupid," Curt began, cornering Brian against the breakfast's table. "I didn't want to leave."

"The why did you?" he asked, fighting the pace of his heart beginning to race.

"I thought you'd stop me," Curt's parted lips were now inches away from Brian's.

Brian chuckled bitterly, finally escaping from Curt and heading for the table to sip his tea. "You haven't changed."

Curt remained staring at the table for a few seconds. "I told you I wouldn't." He was right, Curt had warned him he wouldn't from the very first day.

"I...think you should leave now."

"You what?"

"Well...weren't you already doing it?" Brian pointed out.

Curt stared at the British man in disbelief.

"What is it that surprises you?" he asked, finishing his tea. "I've already said it- it isn't my place."

"Fuck you," Curt snapped, heading for the gate.

Brian smiled, shaking his head. "Did you break into my house just to walk right out again?"

"Well, what else can I do Mr. I-don't-give-a-fuck."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Oh, really?" Curt snapped, placing a hand on Brian's shoulder trying to face him and proceeding to imitate Brian's speech- forcing the accent: _'You shouldn't have come, I'm terribly sorry. Would you like nice cup of coffee while I turn you down? That would certainly be the most polite thing to do although it's more painful_ than shooting your fucking foot_.'_

"Don't be childish," was all Brian had to say.

"I don't get it. I don't get your fucker attitude."

"It's quite simple," Brian replied harshly. "I don't trust you anymore."

"Oh, _you_ don't trust me?!" Curt yelled, annoyed. "Shouldn't that be my place given that you fucked every living thing every time we fought?"

"You have no right to demand _anything_. _You _were the one who left, I was entitled to shag the entirety of Europe if I wanted it."

"And you fucking did. See? You don't give a fuck and you never did."

"That's not the point- sex had _nothing_ to do with it."

"Sex had _all_ to do with it. Because, I gotta tell you- you're one hard to read fucker and the only way you show someone you care is fucking that someone exclusively."

Brian's jaw dropped slightly, before he turned away- whispering. "You should know better than that..."

"Come on, tell me I'm wrong," he demanded.

"You _are._ I _hated_ it every time, but there was no other way to let you know I was _done. _There was _no_ possible way to talk to you without you smashing the china against the floor or...threatening to set the house on fire."

"I was freaking out because I knew you didn't fucking love me anymore!" Curt blurted out to Brian's astonishment. But he wasn't about to break, not in front of him.

"Oh, give me a _break_!" Brian said exaggeratedly. "You were ruining my career, Jerry almost let _me_ go because of your outburst. You became _impossible _to deal with."

"Jerry's the biggest motherfucker I've ever fucking met and you became worse," Curt explained, pointing at Brian and making him walk backwards.

"Yes, you made it fairly clear the last time," Brian remarked coldly, feeling trapped.

Curt moved away. "God- I'm fucking stupid..."

Brian arched his eyebrows, slightly crooking his head while arranging the lapels of his shirt. _Well, I'm not going to disagree._

"You're still the same jerk I dumped."

"I suppose I haven't changed, either," Brian responded calmly before taking the suitcase and climbing up the stairs.

And so Curt looked at Brian straight in the eye before leaving the house and walking into the now-pouring rain. Brian sighed intensely as he continued his way to the bedroom.

_He'll soak out there…_

Lord, he was so tired…After countless hours on the plane he could really use some sleep. He kicked his shoes to the floor, and laid down on the bed- there were so many words and feelings stuck inside him…

Curt Wild…again, the man who had found the way to break through his defenses. The only one who had reached the authentic him. And the only one he'd ever allow to…

God…they had been so wonderful together at the beginning. They laughed, shared,_ connected_. It had been the first time that Brian, even perfectly knowing himself, had felt as though maybe…he wouldn't lose interest this time. Maybe the other people just weren't that…_fantastic._

Those first months were probably the best ones Brian had ever had. The joy, the lust, the comfortable sensation. How they had shared their philosophies, their deepest secrets. How they seemed to know each other for a lifetime.

Brian smiled sadly- they had been so bloody _happy. _And Brian Slade was _never_ happy… Not that he hadn't had the chance- as a matter of fact, he had had many of them… He stood for what he believed, and he had achieved every goal he had set for himself.

He had worked his entire life to make the best he could of himself- he had started a bloody_ revolution_. He was known of, adored, followed. But he still felt like something was missing… And meeting Curt Wild had got rid of that feeling.

But none of that mattered anymore- Curt had broken his trust…He had _sworn_ not to leave. And it wasn't as though they had split up over some deal breaker- it had been the way they handled things. The thoughts they hadn't shared, the hidden feelings. Looking over almost everything… How tired they were of fighting, trying to figure out what was going so wrong. Maybe that had been the problem…They were tired of _trying._

And Brian only trusted in people once. He believed that if someone failed you, they were no longer worth trying again. That was his rule, but Curt wasn't much of a rule follower…

Curt had broken _all _of Brian's systems. He had changed his life- Brian knew Curt's inspiration had been quite a big part of his success. He was his muse, his… He was just _his._

And Brian felt so much stronger with Curt, because he seemed so bloody secure about everything. He said what he thought and did what he wanted and honestly didn't _care _about what others thought. He did what he felt like and that was it. No rationalization, no interior conflicts.

The man took over the world…

Maybe that was what Brian lacked of- spontaneity. That was Curt's charm- he was so..._raw_. And Brian was so _dragged_ by his personality. Not to mention how insanely good looking the man was.

And how much chemistry there was between them. Curt made him feel so drowned and lost…in the best ways imaginable.

Brian shifted his weight on his side, sighing at the oncoming reminiscences. It wasn't fair- too much time had passed for these feelings to still be so _strong._

Why didn't they just…wash away? Why it was so hard?

He curled his fingers into the pillow, fighting back the realization. It couldn't be, it simply _couldn't. _The man's lids fluttered closed as he struggled not to read his doubts. Did he still…_love _him?

The bell tore Brian from his reverie, snapping him back into reality. _What on earth...? _He wasn't expecting anybody and, well...Curt had the key.

He climbed down the stairs, ready to tell whomever was at the door that it wasn't a good time. And he was beyond surprised when he discovered the soaked blond stood on the porch. His dripping hair was plastered to his neck, his clothes to his body and the eyeliner had formed long tears down his cheeks. He looked so...sorrowfully beautiful.

"Don't you..." Brian began, confused.

Curt took the key out of his pocket and handed it to him. "Here."

The man stared at the small object. He knew what he was doing- showing him...respect. He was asking for Brian's permission to walk in his life, instead of pushing himself right into it.

Brian moved away from the door, permitting the man to come in. The blond entered the house and remained silent. He couldn't stop moving his foot and occasionally licked his lips. Brian recognized those gestures- Curt was nervous.

So the man closed the door and moved to the rack to look for a pack of cigarettes in his coat. Brian wasn't exactly a smoker, but he did have a tendency to smoke in the middle of a stressful situation. And the last weeks had been rough, with all those meetings to attend and the contracts to sign.

He made his way next to Curt, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a drag of his own before handing it to the blue-eyed blond. The man looked at Brian for a minute, before taking the cigarette and shoving it between his lips- sucking the nicotine as though he were breathing fresh air.

Brian played with the pack between his fingers, staring at it. "It's been a while..." he murmured almost to himself, putting back the small box in his coat pocket.

Curt only nodded, taking another deep drag and handing the cigarette back to Brian. The blue haired man took it, and smoked while staring at his shoes.

"I..." _Missed you._

The other man glanced at him, somehow reading the look in his dropped gaze. He nodded yet again, letting Brian know he didn't need to finish the line.

"You're not a jerk," was Curt's way to say he was sorry. There was no possible way he would pronounce the actual words. Brian had never heard him say so, _ever._

Brian chuckled softly, and looked up to meet Curt's eyes with a subtle smile, handing him the cigarette. "You're not that...impossible." But he _was_ impossible to him, just in a different way. And maybe he had said it out loud to convince himself. "Still..." The man began, to warn him it wasn't that easy...nothing had changed.

"I know," Curt responded softly, taking the last drag.

Brian moved in front of him, glancing up and down the man's body, and removed the cigarette from his fingers. "Why don't you take a shower?" he said, giving Curt a crystal-clear sign that he wouldn't throw him out.

The blond frowned for a moment, trying to read Brian's eyes. The British man smiled almost imperceptibly, but it was beyond enough.

* * *

Curt stepped into the tub and turned on the hot water. He was so fucking _confused. _First, he didn't plan trying to get Brian back- he didn't plan _anything_ really. Second, he had never even thought about the man actually _allowing_ it. So _what the hell...?_

He had made up his mind that Brian had all the fault. Because the guy knew that there was no way in hell Curt would come back after they split, so he should have came after him and he fucking didn't. It was the least he could have done after treating him like a fucking accessory.

But Brian was being nice to him, at least for now. So he had decided not to hold any more shit against him and just try not to keep fucking things up, see what happens. _Yeah... Fuck it._

He got himself out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out, heading for the bedroom to grab some clothing. As he entered the room, a clusterfuck of memories rushed back into his mind.

Curt could see them both- him and Brian. Kissing roughly, shoving each other against the wall- yanking off their clothes to end up naked, squirming on the floor.

And when his eyes shifted to the bed- he saw Brian having breakfast, mock-fighting with him for some stupid reason. Moments later he recognized himself, standing at the bathroom door. Smashing the nightstand lamp against the wall, screaming out of his mind.

It never occurred to Curt how many memories he had hidden in his head, and being in that room unfolded them _all._

The man jumped out of his skin when the real Brian interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, you're done," he said, glancing at Curt's body from top to bottom before making his way to the closet to hand him a pair of pants and a shirt. "Get dressed- dinner's almost ready," the man announced, making Curt frown a little bit.

Was he really _staying_? "Dinner?" Curt asked skeptically.

Brian nodded, walking out of the room. "And make it snappy- I have to bed down early."

Curt resisted the urge to snap some offense as a response. He did get what was going on, though- Brian was letting him know he wouldn't stop his life to take care of whatever they were handling right now. But he was still upset-Brian was the one who had to show him some sort of sign that he wanted him back, not him. He had already made way too much by showing up at the door.

He got dressed and climbed down the stairs to found a fancy dinner on the table. Good china, crystal glasses and shit. He smiled subtly. He had missed that kind of stuff- not because he actually gave a fuck about it but because it reminded him Brian's manners. And, well- because homemade roasted chicken was kinda better than cheeseburgers.

"Thanks," Curt mumbled, taking the plate.

Brian began his meal. "Do you have a hotel?"

_Fuck. _With all these things in mind he had totally forgotten to check into one. Not that he wanted, anyway. "No," he responded- hoping the conversation would be over. He seriously wanted to stay there, now that he had realized how much he had...missed it. He wasn't sure if he missed Brian yet, but he did miss his life with him.

"There's a nice one a few blocks from here," the blue-haired man replied.

"That's full- all the good ones are," Curt lied. There was no way in hell he'd actually _ask _him.

Brian chuckled. Shit- did the man read his fucking mind or did he just know him too much? "Alright," was all he said.

The meal continued in silence. Small talk wasn't an option, let alone talking for real- but it somehow it didn't feel that awkward. It felt...good.

Once they were done, Brian collected the plates and turned on the dishwasher. Then he climbed upstairs with nothing but a casual 'Goodnight.'

Curt laid down the couch and let his head drop to the pillow. He had no idea what to do next- no idea why he cared that much either. All he knew was that Brian was upstairs, sure as hell not allowing him to come in the bedroom- showing him there was distance in between them and that it wouldn't be easy to change that.

And he wasn't that sure it was worth it, anyway. He did want to try things out again but it looked like way too much work for something that would probably end up bad again. But for now, it was okay.

Curt took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one before resting on the couch again. Well, maybe Brian _was_ worth all the trouble. After all, he was a talented, famous, rich knock out. But...no, none of that mattered. That was what others saw in him, but he knew better.

Brian was different than anyone he had met. He was such a mystery, and Curt just couldn't help but be strongly curious. Plus, damn- he was smart. Brilliant, actually. His ideas were out of this world, new- refreshing. And he wasn't only a fucking genius but he had the guts to let the world know.

And he was a hell of a good guy too- he had done _everything_ for him without expecting anything in return. He had saved his ass, really. And why? Just cause he had had faith in him, in his music, in his mindset. And well- cause the man could see things no one did. Not only in people but in art, and life itself. He was kind of a...visionary. Jeez, he was a goddamned _gem_.

Curt put out the cigarette and settled on the couch so he could get some sleep. And he probably did for about two hours before he heard the wood creaking under Brian's feet.

He turned around to see the British man, pouring himself a glass of water. It was then that Curt felt oddly nervous- he wasn't ready for any kind of exchange, and he was really sleepy- too sleepy to stay clear-minded. He knew that if Brian came near him, he'd just grab the man by his shirt and pull him to the couch with him. And Brian probably wouldn't push him away but Curt would have fucked it all up, and he knew it.

So he closed his eyes again, and then heard Brian coming toward him. But, again- he didn't dare look. As soon as he felt the man climbing back up to his bedroom, Curt eyed a blanket next to him that hadn't been there a minute ago.

* * *

Curt woke up at noon, disturbed by the noise of the door slamming and Brian's feet _rushing _upstairs. He rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep, and quickly followed the man to his bedroom.

"_Shit,_" Brian hissed- taking a folder out of his briefcase and riffling through the papers.

"What's going on?" Curt asked narrowing his eyes, still adjusting to the daylight.

"They _have _to be here, unless..." Brian trailed off, biting down on his lips and shutting his eyes. Collecting himself, he moved to the phone on the nightstand and rapidly dialed a number, sitting down the bed. "Hello, James?" he asked with a raised tone of voice.

What the hell was going on?

"**_Listen_**_ to me_, you ungrateful little_ bastard_- I'm going to _sue _you!" he yelled at the phone.

James? Wasn't that his lawyer?

"_Yes_, you bloody well are! He already called you, didn't he?" The British man began biting his nails, focusing on whatever he was listening to.

"_What? __**No**__," _he suddenly snapped. "Do _not _lie to me, do you think I'm _daft? You _were the one who was supposed to-_" _Brian held his head, and ran a hand through his hair, sighing in worry.

Curt moved next to the man, and picked up the papers, trying to figure out what was going on, but couldn't really understand. He had seen them before, and all he knew was that they had something to do with money. And judging by Brian's reaction...it looked pretty bad.

_"No_, I will _not _calm down_," _the man continued, getting more and more upset as he heard the responses._ "_They're _not _there! And Jerry doesn't have them either- I _just_ talked to him. He said you-_" _Brian stood up, taking the phone and pacing all around the room, listening to whatever James was saying and taking deep breaths, trying his best to calm himself.

"_Then where in heaven's name are they?!" _he snapped loudly. "I just came from the bank, and there's _nothing _there. And the side accounts-"

Curt stood up, looking at Brian and raising his eyebrows so he would give him some sign of what was happening. The man raised his free palm, silently indicating for Curt to wait. "And _you_ can _go fuck_ _yourself_!" he screamed before hanging up.

Curt widened his eyes, Brian hardly used the word 'fuck.' _Yeah, pretty fucking bad. _"What the fuck?"

"Curt, this is _not_ a good time- alright?" Brian responded before storming downstairs and leaving the house for the rest of the day.

* * *

_Jesus Christ_. The British man sipped his glass of wine, trying to calm his nerves. It was already midnight. And he simply couldn't believe how so many things could change in one single day.

He had called Jerry in the morning, announcing he'd take his profits to finally settle down in London. But...as it turned out, there was no money in the regular accounts. And the only ones who had the files to access the ones where they had hidden it when Brian had been charged, were James - his lawyer- and Jerry.

But _those _papers were supposed to be in the safe, in the bank- where _no one _but Brian could touch them. He had _no _idea the bastards had kept them.

So, obviously, they both blamed each other and the papers were still nowhere to be found. All of it together, along with the title of property of the Manhattan apartment, the house in Greece, and the small recording studio he owned...

_**All **__gone._

After stressful never-ending hours, he had finally figured it out- there was no papers, because there was no account...and no properties...

Basically...they were screwed. Jerry had made some shockingly bad investments with the money earmarked to cover the tours. He had tried to balance the numbers by selling the properties, but it wasn't even close. Which meant he was in debt for _the entirety _of expenses from the last..._three bloody _**_years_**, 'approximately'. It was some _serious _money.

And as though all of this wasn't enough to want to jump off the bridge, Curt was gone. And he knew he was probably offended for how he had ignored him. And Brian was definitely _not _in the mood to explain the situation or even _try _to. He had bigger problems to take care of.

For instance- what the _hell_ was he going to do? Even if he sold the house- which he adored- and everything he had it wouldn't still be near enough. Maybe he could get close by auctioning his belongings but he'd still have to find a job- there was no way out of that one.

But he was so _angry._ Not only at the two worthless men but at himself too. Because he _knew_ hiding the money from the government would cause him troubles in the future. And now, he couldn't sue the bastards because of it. If he initiated a trial, they could easily send him to jail. Which meant he was stuck and fruitless.

The bell rang, and Brian simply didn't want to be near _anybody_ until he could figure what to do next. But he had his manners, so he ultimately opened the door.

"Okay," Curt said, stepping into the house. "You're gonna tell me what the fuck happened today?" he asked, heading for the kitchen.

"It's fine," Brian responded, hiding his nerves and forcing his voice to remain steady. "I've solved it." Of course he hadn't, but he simply didn't want Curt to know. He didn't want him to worry, and mostly- he didn't want him to try to _help._

"That's lucky," Curt replied sarcastically. "Cause given what I got from this morning- you were kind of fucked."

Brian shut his eyes, sighing sharply. _This_ was exactly what he was trying to avoid. "Well, that's none of your bloody business- is it?" he snapped. He was so _pissed._

"Jerry did it, right?" Curt asked with a smug smile while lighting a cigarette, but it came out more like a statement than an actual question.

_Marvellous. _Now he had to deal with the fact that Curt had been right about Jerry. Wasn't _that_ 'lucky'? Although now that he thought about it...how had he figured it out? It was suspiciously accurate.

Brian didn't respond. His entire life was _chaos_. He had _no_ idea what to do with one thing or another. He wanted Curt to leave the house because he knew he had no time left to spend. But he couldn't just throw him out. Truth be told- he didn't _want_ to.

_"_Listen..." he began quietly. "I'm not sure this is quite a good time for this." Jesus, Curt wasn't going to listen, he'd probably lose it and Brian didn't want to be there when that happened.

The blond took a sharp drag. "What do you mean?" he asked, eying him warily.

"For...us, I mean." There was no _us_ for God's sake, but he knew Curt wouldn't understand if he put it in some other way. "You can still stay, though," he said softly, feeling guilty and idiotic for changing his mind so abruptly. "But...you should know nothing is going to change." Brian bit down on his lip, stopping the words 'for now' slid from his mouth.

"We'll see," Curt replied lightly.

Why did he look so _confident? _It made him feel somewhere between frustrated and comforted. The man hadn't changed in the slightest...

"I mean it," Brian remarked, staring at the man's azure eyes. "I'm not in a good place right now."

"Brian," Curt said, making his way around the kitchen table to stand in front of him. "...you never were," he whispered.

The British man remained silent. Curt was spot on, those had been the exact same words he had told him when Curt announced they were in an exclusive relationship. And Brian suddenly felt the memories creeping in...

"Could you respect that?"" the man said, pulling the remembrances back in. His tone warmer than he had intended it to be.

"Listen," Curt blurted out, completely changing the tone of his voice. "I'm sick of this shit- it's not like I'm trying to get us from zero to sixty or something," he began as Brian frowned slightly, backing off. "We know each other- so we shouldn't be bouncing around the topic like fucking school-"

"Well, what did you expect?" Brian cut him off. "I can't do this, I-"

"I'm not asking you to do _anything_," Curt snapped, taking a short drag of his cigarette. "I'm telling you it's easier."

"No, it's not," Brian replied, staring at the man straight in the eye. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said firmly as he turned around.

"_No,_" Curt snapped, taking Brian and turning his body so he could face him. "Don't give me that shit- I'm fucking talking to you."

"And _I _don't want to hear you," Brian snapped, escaping from Curt's grip and pushing the man away.

"Well that's too fucking bad," Curt responded, the anger beginning to raise in his voice as he put out the cigarette. "I've put up with your shit too fucking long, and I'm not going to do it again. You let me in, why?" he asked, raising both eyebrows and approaching Brian abruptly.

"_No_. Why did _you_ come back?" Brian snapped, annoyed. He refused to answer Curt's question, and he doubted he could actually find a response for himself.

"To _see_ you, not to fucking marry you!" Curt yelled, now taking off his jacket.

"Well, you've already seen me," the British man replied matter-of-factly.

Curt approached closer, as though he were coming to Brian to attack him. "Don't fucking do that, you _know_ what I mean."

"No, I _don't_," Brian replied upset, he had no idea what Curt really wanted. "I don't understand, and I'm not sure I want to."

"I just wanna spend time with you- why's that so fucking hard to get?!" Curt yelled. Brian could see him fighting back the anger going through his body.

"Because I don't know how to do that," Brian replied. _Not with you. Not anymore._

Curt's fingers curled into a fist as he lifted the lighter, about to throw it against the floor. "That's just _stupid_," he replied. Brian knew Curt had no idea what he was talking about. And he got beyond irritated when that happened.

He couldn't do a _casual _relationship, let alone an actual one. But he didn't want Curt to leave, he needed time- he needed proof. A base to set his hopes on, something realistic, tangible.

"I need _time_," Brian said honestly, shutting his eyes at the anger that provoked him Curt pushing his thoughts out of him.

Curt finally smashed the lighter, and it blew up as it hit the floor- stunning Brian at the violent sound. "You had _four_ fucking _years_!" he said furiously.

"I _can't _do it!" Brian yelled in pure frustration.

Curt advanced Brian until he hit the wall, his eyes burying into his. "But you sure as fuck can do it with fucking anyone else," he remarked. And Brian knew he was again referring about the strangers he shared the bed with. And he was sick of it, even if it cost him part of his pride- he needed to let him know how _mistaken _he was.

"Do you know what I was thinking _every _time I shagged someone?" he asked, his voice affected at Curt's proximity. His fingers curling into a fist against the wall, forcing himself not to touch the man as he spoke."'_God, _I wish he were Curt...'" he mumbled letting his lids drop closed. "'_Christ, _Curt was _so _much _better,'_" he gushed enthusiastically, feeling caught by all those times he had kept this from himself.

Curt's eyes fluttered closed as he heard his name coming from Brian's lips. The British man stared at him, and couldn't help but swallow softy, struggling to _want_ the man away.

The atmosphere tensed with the a dead silence.

"But I _finally_ got over it," Brian snapped, breaking the quietness, his voice suddenly changing. "And you have _no _idea how hard it was- that's why I'm simply _not _going to risk putting myself through that..." the man paused, noticing Curt's mouth inches away from his. "...again," he finished. His breath hitched in his chest at the blond's closeness.

For a moment, Brian Slade gave into the urge to take the man's face with both hands and dive into his mouth, immediately feeling the man's hands taking the lapels of his shirt to shove him against the wall. A tantalising shudder climbed up his spine, as he felt the realization hitting him. He didn't _want_ Curt to stop- in those briefs moments he couldn't conceive the idea of_ not_ missing the man's warmth.

A surprisingly soothing feeling relaxed his muscles, letting the blond take the control for a few seconds. But just as quickly, Brian felt the anger crawling back in. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to break the kiss while Curt only pressed him further. His strong arms keeping him in place while Brian's determination threatened with vanishing.

But the man held on his rage, drawing enough strength to push Curt away as strongly as he could manage, sending him to hit the table as he balanced his weight.

"I..." he murmured under his breath, staring at the man's confused heated expression. But then, he realized there was no words that could possibly explain his presents feelings. Brian was well aware the feelings were still there, locked in his heart and wrapped around his body- but he refused to admit it.

So he shook his head, took a deep breath and decided to climb the stairs into his bedroom. As he rested his head on the wood, Brian tried to fight back the reality- Curt was getting too close…

* * *

_**Author's Note: **_

_English isn't my first language, if there's any kind of mistake, that's why :) If you liked the story I'd really appreciate a review. Suggestions are also welcomed. _


	2. Strangers When We Meet

**Chapter Two: Strangers When We Meet**

* * *

He could still _feel _him, but he was definitely not going to fall for him again. Christ- the mere idea of knowing the man was still downstairs affected him in a way it shouldn't.

This _wasn't_ how Brian wanted things to happen. Everything was _ruined. _He couldn't act naturally around him anymore… Not after the strongest reminder of how much he wanted him.

He extended his fingers to brush his own lips, remembering the familiar, recent kiss when he heard the steps heading for the room. _Please, don't do this- I __**can't**__ explain._

"We need to come up with something- now," the blond said firmly, stepping in.

"I don't quite understand what you're talking about," Brian responded half-honestly, staring at his own feet.

"You're fucked," Curt remarked. And the other man chose to believe he was talking about his financial troubles. Although he did _not_ want to discuss it, even that was better than diving into an emotional argument that Brian couldn't even _consider_ at the moment.

He sighed heavily. "I've already told you, I've fig-"

"Bullshit," Curt dismissed the man's words. "There's no fucking way you fixed it in one day."

Brian remained silent, Curt wasn't _that_ stupid.

"I can help," the blond said softly. Brian's fingers curled into a fist out of frustration, and he resisted the urge to lift it when he heard the next words. "I've got money."

"Absolutely _not_," Brian replied in a heartbeat, turning around to face Curt.

"I knew you'd say that but...you can pay me back."

"No, I can't," the man responded dryly.

"Well…" Curt ran a hand through his hair. "That's okay. I kind of owe you, anyway…"

Brian frowned. "You _owe_ me?"

"Yeah, you know…" Curt made his way to sit down the bed. "You invested in me, so…"

"And you think that was out of _business_?" Brian replied, offended. That money…was not even _real _for him. It hadn't been at the time, and no matter how he felt about Curt now, that wouldn't change. Acts of faith, and _trust_- those things didn't fade for him.

"No, I know," Curt rushed to explain. "All I'm saying-"

"Well, if you _do_ you shouldn't be asking me such a thing," Brian replied with the calmest tone he could manage.

"I want to help, okay? I know you don't fucking like it but I don't think you got much of a choice," the blond said, standing up.

"Leave me alone," was Brian's immediate response. He didn't want to explain how much he hated feeling trapped. Curt should already know it himself.

"Brian, I-"

"I _said-_" the man cut him off, raising his palm so Curt would stop talking. "Leave me _alone_."

Curt's jaw dropped slightly, as he shook his head in resignation. "You already are," he responded while standing up and closing the door.

Brian shut his eyes in a mix of anger and regret. He wasn't sure Curt could afford to stand another rejection but God- he wished the man could. But there was no time left to take care of this emotional mess. He had to sort his priorities.

The man began riffling through the clothes and shoes from the most relevant tours to decide which ones to put for sale and creating a system to organize them, outlining a business plan.

He didn't leave the room unless it was for a cup of tea, and he ran into Curt a few times as he did so, but the men didn't have any kind of exchange.

Later that night, Brian descended the stairs to make dinner, and found Curt putting on his jacket, presumably to leave the house.

"Are you going out?" he asked, absently turning his head around as he opened the refrigerator.

The blond searched for a cigarette in his pocket and shove it in his lips. "Yeah," he responded, holding the lighter as he cupped his hand around the flame. He then took a deep drag and narrowed his eyes against the blur. "I thought you may need some time alone. Well... We, really."

Brian nodded- Curt was probably right. Although he did wonder how they could need it, given that they hadn't even spent two days together after wasting four _years _apart.

"I just can't deal with it, Brian," Curt confessed, approaching the counter. "You know...having you around and not..." He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the man for some kind of answer.

"I know," Brian responded. It was difficult for him too, especially given the recent events.

"I mean…" He sighed heavily. "You keep shutting me out, and I get you don't wanna rush things and shit but you hardly talk to me. It's like I'm not even here."

"I told you nothing was going to change," Brian replied calmly.

"And I told you that's bullshit," Curt responded. "I know you, you're trying so fucking hard to _not _tell me how you really feel. It's not like you don't feel it at all."

Brian sighed heavily, hating himself for apparently being so transparent. He used to be so successful at hiding those things. How could Curt see through him with such clarity?

"We'll talk," the British man assured him. "Later."

Curt nodded, still looking upset. "Okay..." He took a drag, attempting to calm himself down. " I got a some shows from now on so..."

"Yes," Brian replied, knowing Curt meant that they would do it after he came back. "I'll see you then."

"Good." Brian immediately turned his face away as he felt Curt's lips approaching. He felt the man's eyes staring at him, only for a second before he quickly headed for the door.

"Curt." The blond's head snapped to face Brian. "Here," he said, reaching for the key and handing it back to him. Curt looked down at the small object and then at Brian.

"Just in case I'm not home," He said warmly.

"I can wait around," Curt replied, strengthening the man's purpose.

"I insist," he said, placing the key in Curt's palm and closing his dark-polished fingers.

The man mirrored the grin, and walked out the door.

* * *

Jack Fairy's steps resounded on the hallway, before he knocked the door of the dressing room. "Curt," Another knock. "Five minutes."

"Hold on," he replied, sliding his shiny, silver-plated pants up his legs. Late again, but fuck it. He was the star, right? They would have to wait.

"They're already waiting," the red-haired man insisted.

"Fucking _wait,_" Curt snapped, not even bothering to open the door.

Not only did Curt not give a fuck about performing on time, but his mind wasn't focused in the show. He couldn't stop remembering all those times he had been in that exact same room with Brian. It was the same old theatre they had shared in their tours together.

He sit down the swivel chair, facing the mirror and bringing back an specific memory...

* * *

_"Look up," Brian said, holding the eyeliner near Curt's eye. "Stay still."_

_Curt blinked hard. "You poked out my eye, asshole," he replied with a grin on his face._

_"You won't stop moving, prat," Brian responded, sliding the pencil across the man's eyelid._

_"There you go..." He moved away to get a full sight of him._

_"How is it?" Curt asked, spinning the chair to face the mirror._

_Brian turned him around, looking at him while softly chewing on his lip. "Hot," he replied before placing a brief kiss on his lips and heading for the cosmetics. "No lipstick?"_

_"Hell, no," Curt replied chuckling. "That's for queers."_

_"Thank you very much," Brian responded sarcastically. "You're highly more homosexual than I am, though." he said, applying the eyeshadow over his own lid._

_"What happened with your bisexuality philosophy? No such thing as fag or straight?"_

_The man approached Curt and wrapped his arms around him from behind, staring at him through the backwards picture. "You're the exception that proves the rule, poof."_

_"Yeah, right," Curt said, widening his eyes while staring at the mirror. "You wear dresses, man."_

_"Used to, and well...you don't shag girls," he pointed out. "So..."_

_Curt turned around, spinning the chair and facing the man. "Here's the thing," he began, standing up and cupping Brian's jaw. "With you, I got both covered."_

_Brian smiled widely, and wrapped his arms around Curt's waist. But his grin faded. "Promise me we won't become them," he murmured. "Any of them."_

_Curt shook his head, staring into his big glassy eyes. "Not gonna happen."_

_"How would you know?" Brian asked- he sounded serious._

_Curt only smiled, responding in a soothing, confident voice. "Easy- that's why we rule the world, babe..." Brian frowned, as Curt approached his lips to the man's ear, whispering the next words. "They can't take us down."_

* * *

But they did... Brian, mostly. He had changed completely over the last years. All those traces the man showed him at the beginning was all he could see in the end of their time together.

It hadn't been the world, the world hadn't fucking changed them or itself. It was him. It had been _him_. Maxwell Fucking Demon.

Self-centered arrogant motherfucker who seemed to believe he could treat him like shit. Worst fucking thing? He had allowed it. Cause he always fucking did.

He had never really understood why Brian had become him. It was supposed to be a fucking stage character, not a splitting personality psycho. Shit. It had ruined everything. Thank God the man had left the business. No idea what the fuck was going on in the man's mind while he played the psycho but it was killing him, it was killing Brian Slade.

He remembered warning him about it but...Brian was blind with success, money, fame, adoration. All the things that didn't really matter. _Asshole._

* * *

_"What the hell was that?" Brian asked, as he slammed the door closed but managed a calm tone of voice._

_"What?" Curt snapped with a smug grin on his face. "Did I piss off the queen?" he said as he entered the hotel room. "Good."_

_"Are you out of your mind?" Brian asked in the same irritating tone. "You can't-"_

_"I am," Curt cut him off. "You're driving me fucking crazy." He sat down the bed, kicking off his shoes._

_Brian sighed. "You're-"_

_"Unprofessional? Childish? Stupi-"_

_"Would you please let me speak?"_

_Curt lay down, shutting his eyes. "Whatever, I don't give a shit anyway."_

_ "You can't settle the score by-" Brian stopped, probably trying to keep his tone down. "You can't simply... It's my bloody job, Curt!" He yelled, finally losing his temper. "My career, are you aware of-"_

_"I don't care about your job. I don't fucking care about your career either. Or Jerry, or fucking anything!" The blond yelled at the ceiling. "Not like this, Brian. No fucking way."_

_"What on earth do you mean?!" Brian moved to sit next to Curt. "We have had this exact same conversation a million times and I still-"_

_Curt immediately sat up on the bed. "Don't play dumb with me! I told you, you're becoming this twisted motherfucker you created. It's sick, it makes me sick too."_

_"__**I**__ am making you sick?" Brian asked, standing up again. "Why don't you look at yourself for a minute? You worthless self-pitying little waste of time."_

_"See?!" Curt snapped loudly, losing his nerve and jumping out of the bed. "Fucking listen to you! You treat me like-"_

_"You deserve it," Brian responded coldly._

_"That's it," Curt snarled as he took Brian by his shirt, pushing him toward the wall. "Let's settle the score," he snapped defiantly._

_Brian pushed him away. "Do you want to fight?" he asked, with that stupid grin still on his face. Fucking psycho._

_"We've been doing it all as your majesty requested," Curt began, giving the man another thud. "So we're solving this my way."_

_Brian remained still, looking away._

_"What's wrong?" Curt continued, forcefully cupping the man's jaw. "Pansy limey doesn't know how to act like a __**man**__?"_

_Brian's body stiffened, before he glared at the blond. "Who taught you so?" He asked, his smile crooking. "Your __**brother**__?"_

_It was fucking low of him, but the worse thing was how…steady his voice was. How there were no traces of remorse in it. It scared Curt shitless._

_In a flash, he threw his fist to the man's face, sending him right to the floor. He didn't think about it- it was all he wanted to do at the time. Kill the motherfucker who was taking all they had built up and destroying it in the most painful way possible. Because that wasn't Brian. It just couldn't be. _

_But whoever this man was, he winced as his hand flew to cover the striking red cheek. And remained quiet, staring at the wine-colored carpet._

_"You're the most cold-blooded motherfucker I've ever fucking met," Curt said, his voice shaking as he struggled for the burning tears not to fall. Brian's eyes were still locked down, refusing to hear. But the blond wouldn't stand this, and so he violently held the man's chin- forcing him to face him. "And I __**pity**__ you," he spat, releasing his face with a slap._

_The British man stayed in silence for a few minutes. And only spoke when hearing Curt about to leave._

_"I hate you," he muttered tightly, tears running down his cheek._

_Curt took a moment before crossing the door. "At least you fucking feel."_

* * *

Curt sighed heavily, remembering the horrible times and longing for the good ones. They had hurt each other so...cruelly. Both of them.

"_Curt_, I'm not saying it again!" Jack snapped, opening the door.

The blond sighed, rolling his eyes. "Alright, ginger," he responded cheerfully, knowing that the man was actually right. He got on his feet and headed for the door, while Jack smiled in relief. "Anything for you to stop bitching."

"Why do I still work with you?" Jack replied smiling, following Curt through the hallway. His voice always soft.

"You love me," Curt said, grinning.

Jack smiled sadly. "You don't."

Curt stopped walking to turn his face to Jack, lowering his voice. "Cut it out."

Jack stared at the man, studying him for a minute. "You saw him, didn't you?"

The blond sighed heavily, resuming his way. "Not your fucking business."

"I thought you-" Jack tried to point out.

"I _know_," Curt replied bitterly. He wanted to get the fuck out of there, but his feet seemed to be glued to the goddamned floor for some reason.

"He's hurting you," The red-haired man blurted. Jeez, he had heard that fucking line countless times.

Curt looked at his shoes, debating turning around- but he didn't. Instead, he shifted his eyes to his own shoulder- catching a glimpse of the small blurred figure behind him. "He's fucking not."

"Well… then he will," the man said as he walked towards Curt, and placed a hand over his shoulder. But the blond abruptly moved away, and made his way to the stage after hearing Jack's last words.

_"He always does."_

* * *

Brian waited for Jerry in his office, although he did want to murder and sue the bastard- not necessarily in that order- he knew it was time to be diplomatic. Maybe trying to conceal some kind of agreement would lead him to a better way out.

"I can't find the words to express how terribly remorseful I feel, Brian," Jerry lied, walking into the room. "I expect this won't harm our relationship?"

"Of course," Brian replied through clenched teeth. "Business is business."

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." Jerry smiled, sitting in front of him. "If there was something you always possessed, it was tolerance and loyalty."

"Is there anything left?" Brian asked, disgusted by Jerry's immeasurable degree of hypocrisy.

"You're a smart man," Jerry said with a relaxed smile. "You've earned my respect."

Brian faked a smile. "Do I benefit from it?"

The older man lit his cigar. "Your house is insured," he said blatantly. "Unassailable."

Brian held a sigh of huge relief. "Such a misfortune to your plans, isn't it? The real state value is sky-high," he said with exaggerated sarcasm.

"My actions were nothing but a small tax," Jerry justified himself, "considering you owe me your entire career."

"I only owe my success to one person, and that's myself," Brian said firmly, standing up and facing Jerry. "And you're bloody lucky I'm smart enough not to waste my valuable time dragging you back to the hole from which you crawled. I know you will end up there as it is, regardless."

Jerry smirked. "Brian, Brian... Letting me get under your skin? I don't know if I should be disappointed or flattered."

"I'm the disappointed one- I thought you smarter," he said, approaching to the man and speaking with the most unbreakable calm. A wide smile drawing in his face. "Dreadful move, Jerry. You set me loose, and lost your cash cow."

He then moved away, heading for the door. "Oh, where are my manners?" His feet made his way to Jerry once again. "Thank you."

Brian closed the door, and headed for the exit. Doing so, he passed by a room he recognized, and walked back to take a look. It was the conference room, and an odd and annoying breeze of nostalgia made him walk in.

Was he really absolutely convinced he should quit? Wouldn't he miss any of it? He had thought it was what lead him to lose his mind- his true mind. But now that he saw the large table, smell the wooden floor and recalled the very beginnings of his efforts- he started to doubt it.

Maybe it was a matter of changing the way thinks worked, and _who_ managed them. And he was tired of all of those who involved and created a business out of his art, but not his art in itself.

But, when it came to it...maybe the real problem was there. As opposed to Curt and many other artists, his art only pushed his real been away instead of a way to reach them. It was nothing but part of the act. Christ, he was deep down screwed.

Maybe if he started all over again...

_Git._

Reality ripped Brian from his hopes- he was skint. How in heaven's name would he start _anything_?

He sighed heavily, sitting down one of the many chairs in that room. His fingers drumming on the wood as the thoughts ran through his mind. And this little gesture guided him to remember something he would have never guess it was hidden in his memory. But his fingers kept drumming, and his surroundings seemed to blur and become clear with different but similar colours and structures- taking Brian into that specific time.

* * *

_His fingertips constantly knocking the glass table, as Brian occasionally glanced at Jerry- who seemed to be much more calm._

_"It's your responsibility," Jerry said calmly._

_Brian only nodded._

_Curt was about to walk into that conference room, and he had been oddly nervous since he was told so. The black boots stepped over the polished wood, and the most relaxed sexy smile burst out of the young man as soon as he met Brian's eyes._

_"So," the dirty blond began as he dropped his weight down the chair and propped his ankle over his knee. "What did I miss?"_

_"Curt, I believe we've discussed your assistance," Jerry replied, lighting up a cigar. A thinner version was already lit in between the rock boy's teeth._

_Curt tsked, smiling. Always charmingly rebel. "It's still noon."_

_Jerry warily looked at Brian, but he shrugged slightly._

_"Anyway," he resumed. "We've been debating with Brian here, the positive prospects of investing in a new project. It would comprise both of you as a single public figure. A feign couple, if you will."_

_"An act," Brian explained as Curt nodded slowly. "All we need to perform some public displays of affection and leave the rest to them."_

_"Precisely. Are you willing to do so?" the manager asked Curt._

_He chuckled. "Yeah, that's no problem." Brian's body stiffened as he felt Curt's palm fall onto his own knee. "Don't even need to act." Brian bit down on his lip, feeling the man's fingers skimming his leg._

_Jerry smiled ambitiously. "Even better."_

* * *

Brian forced himself to open his eyes not to allow Curt's imaginary fingers go further in.

_Why_ was he recalling these things? Why did his mind -insist on reminding how hopelessly he wanted this man and at the same time create an impenetrable barrier to keep him from acting in consequence of it? And then he figured it out.

He didn't want things as they were at the moment- he wanted things as they were back then.

When Curt was nothing but an obsession, a harmless delightful fixation that didn't get under his skin in any way other than a shudder…

* * *

_The phone rang, and Brian knew who was calling. The meeting was about to finish- Brian's eagerness grew with every second._

_"Brian?" Jerry snapped. "Are you listening?"_

_Brian nodded. "Would you excuse me, gentlemen?" he said politely, before leaving twenty businessmen alone in his own living room. It was probably disrespectful, but he truly didn't care._

_The phone rang again, and this time Brian picked it up within seconds._

_"Hello?"_

**_"Hey."_**

_Brian's hand trembled, his breath catching. He had waited for this phone call since he had woken up. "Finally."_

_Curt chuckled. __**"You busy?" **__Lord, his voice. It simply melted him._

_"Not for you. When will I see you again?"_

_There was a long silence, voices blending through the phone. Then, his voice again. Anxious._

**_"Now."_**

_Brian swallowed a deep sigh of content. "I'm in a meeting."_

**_"In your house?"_**

_"Jerry insisted." Brian's voice was unsteady- he was so nervous._

**_"Throw them out," _**_the low, gritty and beyond sensual voice ordered._

_Brian bit hard down on his lip. "Don't tempt me." Or he would, all he wanted was to see him. Touch him, kiss him. It seemed forever since the last time, even if it hadn't been more than three days. He hadn't felt this level of excitement since he was a bloody teenager. "You know I will."_

**_"It'll be damn worth it."_**

_Brian took a deep breath. The man was so alluring. "I'll be done in ten or fifteen minutes. Don't be late."_

**_"I'm on my way."_**

* * *

Brian rested his head on the chair. Those had been wonderful times…When he only cared enough to admire him instead of truly adoring him. When he only existed in his built-up fantasies and the real image was nothing but a stunning coincidence.

When nothing was real, and his feelings weren't compromised.

When he was out of harm's way.

Now, he couldn't be more exposed. He knew he could maintain his façade for a lifetime if he intended to but Curt made it all different. He saw through him. And therefore, through any sort of disguise he could use. And he hated it. Because it was exactly that had led him to love the man in the past, and as much as he tried to deny it- it threatened to bring that feeling back, and he couldn't afford it.

However, there was nothing his deep instincts wished more than the man's hands around his body- in one way or another. And that bloody kiss still _burned_. On his lips, his flesh, and deep down his soul.

He wanted more, as he always did.

From Curt too, but mostly himself. And from this pathetic play his life had become. But…was it really possible? Did he had what it took to climb down the stage he had put himself on? But that didn't even matter, for the real question remained.

_Was it worth the trouble?_

_Was there anything left behind the curtain?_

If he turned off the light, cleaned up his face of the makeup and stepped out of his costume…

**_Would he still exist?_**

* * *

Curt walked through the cold night as he made his way back to the house, but he wasn't sure he wanted to see Brian again- he was damn angry at him for being such a goddamned tease. Kissing him and then acting as though he had been raped or something. _Make up your fucking mind._

Not that Curt was any good at stopping himself from doing something stupid or impulsive but he_ hadn't_. Even if Brian was something that he just couldn't handle. He was trying. _So there._

And he just wanted to be with him. Nothing more, nothing less. Future wasn't something Curt had even considered- he_ just_ wanted to live in the moment. And Brian was wasting too much time for his taste.

The man wanted him too, that was for sure. He had shown him so, even if he tried so hard not to. And why did he make it so fucking complicated, anyway? Yeah, things had gotten damn dysfunctional in the last months but that didn't mean it couldn't work _now._

He took a deep drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at his previous thought. No, Brian just wouldn't go for it. And if he did, he'd just take it like Curt was demeaning the whole thing and would distrust him even more. Cause Brian was tricky like that.

Actually, the man was a fucking puzzle. He wanted this, and then that. Seconds later he didn't want any of those things or maybe he did, but not in that specific way unless the circumstances changed and just... fuck it.

He remembered how Brian used to need him as close as he could get, 'to feel the warmth of his skin' and then five minutes later he'd want Curt to leave him the fuck alone. Another three minutes and Brian would start missing him again. It was _madness._

But he had learned to understand how insecure Brian was, despite what he showed him. And that all those reactions were nothing but fear. And now it was even worse cause the man had lost the only stability he had- money.

So, he did want to help him. Cause no matter how fucking much he had hurt him or how he could easily turn into the biggest motherfucker, Curt still cared for him. He still didn't know why, but-unlike Brian- he didn't_ need_ to know.

So, he had managed to help him somehow. Since Brian wouldn't take his money, he had talked to Jack and convinced him to invest in him. It hadn't been hard since the man was a golden business to anyone.

Now, if Brian decided to not accept this chance, fuck it. It was _his _shitty decision.

* * *

_"Brian?"_ He heard coming from downstairs- Curt had arrived.

The man descended to the first floor, holding the cup of tea. There he was- it only took his presence to make Brian realize he had missed him.

Curt headed for the kitchen, talking with excitement. "I talked to Jack, and you better not be an asshole about this- he wants to invest."

"Jack?" was all Brian replied, confused.

"Fairy? My manager?"

"Oh." Brian thought for a moment. He didn't agree with Curt telling his situation to others. No matter how reliable he seemed, Jack wasn't someone he trusted. Therefore, he wasn't comfortable with him knowing he had troubles. What if he took advantage of it?

He stood up.

"Who gave you permission to divulge my financial situation to strangers?"

Curt sighed heavily. "Don't be a jerk and listen, cause I'm not gonna tell you twice."

Well, Curt had good intentions- didn't he? Even if he didn't trust him either, did he really have anything left to lose? And...he honestly didn't want to fight. So he remained silent, waiting for Curt to continue.

"If things go well you should be able to pay the debt and make some profits."

Brian nodded, taking Curt words in. It made sense- Jack had turned Curt into a successful star from what he knew. It had obviously been primarily Curt's merit, however, he knew that no matter how talented the artist was, they still needed someone who knew exactly how to let the world know.

"Well," he took a sip of his tea. It seemed feasible, although he would probably have to cut a new record. "It doesn't sound impossible."

"You need a new album, though."

Brian nodded yet again. "I figured."

"That's all, hope it helps." Curt took a beer from the fridge, and slowly made his way to the couch.

The British man left the mug in the sink, and turned on the water. "How was your show?" he asked, hearing the lie in his voice. Hoping Curt wouldn't notice.

"Great, actually," he said, taking his jacket off. "Although they fucked up with the microphone twice, but I guess people didn't notice because of all the screaming."

The words slipped from the man's mouth. "It was very subtle, too." Brian shut his eyes tightly. _Idiot._

"What?" he heard Curt snapping.

"If they didn't notice, I meant," he tried to disguise the truth, but his voice sounded unsteady.

Why was it making him so nervous? It wasn't such a big deal.

The blond stood up. "I don't think so."

Brian chuckled, trying to mislead him. "Don't be paranoid."

Curt moved closer, studying the man for a moment as he turned around once he had finished the dishes. The man's gaze felt uncomfortable, irritatingly intimidating. "Jeez, you were there."

Jesus. Was his guard down or anything along those lines? _I must be tired._

Brian stared at him, but felt forced to looked away. "What if I was? It's not that big of a deal."

"Sure it's not. But you didn't want me to know, that _is_."

Brian shrugged, but Curt was spot on.

"What did you think?" he asked, throwing Brian a new dilemma.

Lying about his performance made no sense. Apart from any issue he could have with Curt at the moment, he still adored his music and couldn't help but enjoy the shows he offered. It had been such a long time since he had seen him on the stage, and he was still- if not more- dazzling.

But he was fearful about showing him what it had caused in him. He could remember the blond's cyan eyes, distinguishing in the blue smoke. The light painting his skin into pale amaranthine silk. The delirious crowd, worshipping him…

Brian ran a hand across the back of his neck, softly chewing on his lip and staring down. "You were brilliant," he finally confessed, looking up to meet Curt's eyes.

The man smiled, slightly surprised. There was a small pause before he spoke again. "I've thought about you."

_So did I. Every day._ "Did you?"

"Yeah..." the man smiled shamefacedly. "Remembered stuff, you know?"

Brian looked into those water-coloured eyes. His attempts not to show his real emotions failed miserably.

"You too?" Curt read right through him.

The man nodded. He wished the blond would move away, only so he could push away his need for him to come closer.

Curt bit down on his lip, the most subtle smile drawing on his face before firmly wrapping his arms around him- burying his face in the man's shoulder.

Brian's seemed to freeze. A storm of memories drowning his conscience. Mercifully, he moved slightly away- just to enough to look deep into Brian's eyes and erase all those nagging thoughts.

"I don't _want_ this," Curt's muffled words reached Brian's ears. "I _don't_ fucking like it."

The man had absolutely no idea what to do. Still, he prayed for Curt not to draw his arms away. It made him feel so...warm.

The man's arms tightened their grip, ripping a soft gasp out of Brian's mouth along with an instant reflect- forcing him to hold him back. Infamous tears dancing in his eyes.

_Please, stop. Please._

"We're not the same," Brian managed to say, trying to ease his vulnerability. And made his biggest effort to push the man away.

Curt stared into his eyes, confused. "So what?" he murmured, leaning his hand to wipe the tears.

It was more that Brian could take. He was about to break right there- he'd simply fall to pieces in front of the one who caused it. He could recognize the awful sensation, the nauseating cry climbing up his throat.

"Don't touch me," he blurted, snapping Curt's hand away.

The man raised an eyebrow and remained still, only to abruptly move closer a few seconds later. "You do it."

Brian felt completely ripped from the emotions, and dragged into a an uneasy state. "I beg your pardon?" was all he said, and regretted it immediately.

"Yeah, touch me," Curt repeated, advancing the man until Brian's body hit his own. "I've been thinking all the fucking day," he said breathily, taking Brian's hand and placing it on his own chest. "It's been driving me crazy."

Even if Brian _did_ feel instantly affected, he also felt an incredible _relief_. For he could control arousing feelings infinitely better than any other one.

"I know you want it," was Curt's last try.

In other terms, in other times- he would had found Curt's confidence incredibly attractive. But now it wasn't the case. Since the blond probably thought it only took one phrase for Brian to debunk his feelings. And he was throughout _wrong_. Still...

* * *

Curt felt the heat growing in his body. He had gone nuts just from remembering the man's voice or skin. He wanted to _hear_ it, _feel_ it. And he wanted it _now._

The British man remained quiet for a minute. "It seems like I'm not the only one."

"Fuck- no," Curt admitted with an obvious look. "I've been wanting to get my hands on you since I came here. That's no secret."

"However, I do have one," the British man said with a mysterious tone of voice. "I've been wanting to feel your fingers all over me too, from the very first moment you walked in…Well, and before…" He bit his lip. "_Long_ before."

Curt arched both eyebrows. _What the…_ "Really?"

Next thing he felt was Brian's fingers curling into his t-shirt. "Oh, _yes._ Every night I've been lying up there. Wishing for you to ignore my silly words and crawl under the sheets, kissing me all the way up… So I can feel your hair, brushing my skin…"

Curt's breath became heavy, as the man continued talking smoothly- the accent melting every word. He was still kinda shocked about how easy Brian had given in, but he sure as fuck liked it enough to keep his mouth shut.

"And I'm…" Brian pursed his lips. "Shaking a little… I feel the desire, building up inside my body…"

"Shit."

"You come closer…my breath catches in my throat. Your tongue is travelling up my neck, ripping soft moans off my own lips…"

Curt's parted mouth leaned in. His body was burning, craving for some contact. "You're so…" Brian's warm lips approached as well, and whispered- right into his mouth. "…_credulous_."

* * *

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